


arachnophobia

by harpers_mirror (SapphireBryony)



Series: a man of many fears [1]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Gen, Post-Hephaestus, extreme danger bugs, friendshippy hurt/comfort, reactions to space trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 22:25:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6827665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBryony/pseuds/harpers_mirror
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knows something is wrong the moment she answers the phone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	arachnophobia

She knows something is wrong the moment she answers the phone. Eiffel’s voice is high and thin and terrified in a way that makes her stomach drop to somewhere around her knees and makes her head go light with fear.

“Min-Minkowski?” His words shake and he sounds like he’s hyperventilating.

“Eiffel, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“I need you to come over here right now,” he forces out with obvious effort. “I need you to - _oh god!”_

The phone drops with a clunk and she hears a muffled scream on the other end.

“Eiffel? EIFFEL!” No response, but she shouts his name into the unresponsive phone a few more fruitless times.

When the line goes dead, Minkowski stuffs her phone into her pocket and her feet into shoes and grabs her keys, out the door in a whirlwind of frantic momentum.

She covers the fifteen minute drive to his place in eight, fumbling his spare key into the lock and bursting into the apartment, unsure of what she’ll find. She expects blood, intruders, Cutter back the grave that Isabel had put him in.

What she does _not_ expect to find is Eiffel huddled in the corner of his kitchen, shaking, eyes fixed on the area above the stove.

She bemusedly follows his line of sight and her gaze lands on a spider, its fuzzy blackness stark against the cracked white plaster of the ceiling.

“Are you kidding me,” she asks flatly. “Eiffel, it’s _just a spider.”_

His eyes are huge and terrified as he chances a quick glance at her and - oh god damn it, this is _ridiculous_ , he’s a goddamn (allegedly) grown man, but the genuine fear in his eyes, the bloodless cast to his face...they tug at her heart even as she fights the urge to roll her eyes in exasperation.

“Okay, Doug,” she relents, giving in like she’d known she would. (Honestly - when doesn’t she give into his ridiculous whims in one form or another?) “Go get me a shoe and something to stand on.”

“C-can’t,” he squeaks out. “Have to walk under it to get one.”

“Oh for - ” she sighs again, closing her eyes and resting her face in her hands. Rubbing her temples tiredly, she speaks again, not looking at him. “Fine. I’ll go find something.”

“Thank you,” he breathes, never taking his eyes off the looming danger.

***

Five minutes, one judicious application of boot to the ceiling and one very dead, gruesome spider carcass later, Renee drops to the sofa beside a greatly relieved but still-shuddering Eiffel.

She turns to face him. “Okay, so, you can’t do this.”

Immediately she wishes she could take the words back. His expression closes off, face going perfectly blank. She reaches out a hand and he cringes back, leaning away from her.

“Sorry, Commander, I don’t know what I was thinking. I shouldn’t have bothered you. It won’t happen again, sorry, you can leave, sorry to bother you.” Eiffel delivers all this in a great rush, tripping over his words as he goes, refusing to meet her eyes.

Minkowski’s chest feels tight as she tries to navigate the potential minefield that is an anxious Eiffel. She knows from experience that when he gets like this it can be hard to steer him back on track. Sighing, she slowly and deliberately reaches out and catches his nervously twisting hands with her own.

“Hey. Eiffel. Breathe. I’m not mad, I’m not going to _get_ mad. So what’s wrong?”

Still not meeting her eyes, he mutters, “Could feel it moving. On - on my skin.”

Baffled, Minkowski looks back and forth between Eiffel and the smudge on the plaster that is all that remains of the spider. “But you weren’t anywhere near it...”

He sighs and pulls away from her again, rubbing a hand over his face. “I know! I know it’s dumb. But as soon as I saw that thing, I could feel it walking around on my skin. It’s like...” He shudders, a discomfort resonating throughout his entire body. “Gah, I don’t know. It’s like I was reliving the whole death-spider thing from...up there.”

His eyes flick up towards the ceiling as though he can see the distant wreck of the Hephaestus lurking somewhere beyond the water-stained plaster.

They never directly talk about where they’ve been, some corner of her mind observes, never call it by its name. But now is not the time for such reflections; Eiffel is pressing doggedly onward and it’s clearly costing him something emotionally to do so. Minkowski returns her full attention to him.

“And even though I knew it wasn’t touching me, even though I’m a _grown-ass man_ who has squashed a _lot_ of spiders in his day, I just couldn’t...I couldn’t move? I felt like I couldn’t breathe or look away or _anything._ I don’t even really remember calling you - hell, if my phone hadn’t been in my pocket, I’d probably still be stuck in a staring contest with the Spider That Ate Manhattan.” And then Eiffel smiles crookedly at her, though the smile doesn’t reach his tired eyes. “I probably sound batshit crazy. Sorry, Commander.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Everything we went through...well, you aren’t the only one who freaks out about strange things, Doug.”

“You too, huh?”

Renee nods, glancing away. “Yup. I...let’s just say that almost running out of air before your crazy communications officer bothers to let you back into your station kind of messes with your head. Not really a situation you have to worry about replicating on Earth the same way you do spiders, but...” She shrugs. “Got wrapped up in blankets the other night and woke up really scared. Nearly took out my husband before I figured out what was happening.”

That surprises a laugh out of him. “Sorry, sir. Not a funny situation. But the image of you waking up swinging is pretty great.”

“Dominik says it’s good for his reflexes. Keeps him on his toes.” She chuckles, then sobers. “So I get it. What can I do to help?”

Eiffel flaps a dismissive hand. “Pshhh… Don’t worry about it - “

“What. Can I do. To help?” she repeats, pinning him with a look.

“Uh...”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Eiffel. Okay, how’s this sound? I won’t come over to kill every bug that finds its way into your house. Not every bug is an Extreme Danger Bug, after all.”

Her use of his terminology makes him smile. “Yeah, no, little stuff is fine. It’s the big stuff I’m having trouble with. I, uh...” Eiffel squirms slightly. “So in my head, there are categories? There are ‘bugs,’ which is like, ants and flies and stuff. Those are cool. Then you have your ‘danger bugs’ - smaller spiders, too-many-leggers, _moths_ \- ” he shudders “which I obviously don’t _love_ but don’t make me want to _die._ And finally, you have your ‘Extreme Danger Bugs’ which is pretty much just the category for spiders of unusual size. Those... nope. Like, 'consider burning the house down because now it’s contaminated' levels of nope.” The frightening sort of sincerity in his voice leaves Minkowski a little unnerved.

“You completely ridiculous man. Okay, how’s this sound? You have to kill or otherwise deal with bugs and Danger Bugs - I can’t believe you have me using your crazy terminology, by the way - unless I’m already here, in which case I will consider handling anything menacing if you ask me to. You may call me for anything at or over the Extreme Danger Bug level.”

“Uh, Commander? There _is_ nothing past the EDB level.”

“Not _yet.”_

“Oh god damn it.”

Minkowski grins, shrugging unapologetically. “Sorry. Okay, EDB’s and above, call me and I will come to your rescue. Deal?”

Eiffel blows out a breath, looking calmer than he had since she’d arrived. “Deal. Commander, I - ”

“Don’t worry about it, Eiffel. You’re still my crew, even if we are back home.”

“Then...thanks. You have no idea how much I appreciate this. And, uh...never mind.”

“What?” she prompts, genuinely curious.

“It’s dumb,” Eiffel mutters.

“Officer Eiffel, please stop withholding information from your direct superior.”

He blushes, a bright pink that creeps up to the tips of his ears. “I was just gonna say...if you wake up scared again, you could...youcouldcallme? Ifyouwant?” The last part comes out all in a stammered rush that makes a grin crawl slowly across her face, a look of surprised pleasure.

“Really, Eiffel? I - thanks. Maybe I will.”

“Yeah? Good. I mean...” He shrugs and flashes her a small smile. “It’s nice to have someone around who understands.”

Minkowski returns his smile. “It really is, Eiffel. It really, _really_ is.”

**Author's Note:**

> The "bug/danger bug/extreme danger bug" breakdown belongs entirely to [badskeletonpuns](http://archiveofourown.org/users/badskeletonpuns/pseuds/badskeletonpuns). Many, many thanks to her, to my other lovely friends who made suggestions and provided much-needed encouragement, and to [station_oracle](http://archiveofourown.org/users/station_oracle) who beta'd the heck out of this.


End file.
